


Do you want to play a game, Dr Gordon?

by holy3cake



Series: Humanity always wins, or does it? [3]
Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Betrayal, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, Husbands, Love, M/M, Rescue, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26127220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy3cake/pseuds/holy3cake
Summary: After Lawrence left Mark in the bathroom, he didn't know that someone would be waiting to save him. But what happens when Mark finds out one of Lawrence's big secrets? Will he use to his advantage and get the revenge he wants? Or will Lawrence be one step ahead of him?Find out more in this fic!
Relationships: Adam Faulkner-Stanheight/Lawrence Gordon, Mark Hoffman/Peter Strahm
Series: Humanity always wins, or does it? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887682
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Where's your humanity now?

**Author's Note:**

> Again, anyone who is reading this it's much appreciated as I had this idea for a while! Please let me know if it's any good! :)

Do you want to play a game, Doctor Gordon?

The situation you find yourself in, is of your own doing. You decided to follow John’s last request, despite everything he has done to you. He would’ve let Adam die without a second thought, but you couldn’t let that happen could you? Instead you went back for him, defying John in the process. But you still fulfilled John’s wishes, and locked me in your first game. Even when you took away my only chance, did you really think you’d beaten me? Did you really think this was over? I killed Jill Tuck, with her ex-husband’s own beartrap. Now I’m coming for Adam. You better hurry though, as fast as your little fake leg will let you. I can guarantee his death will be so much worse than Jill’s, unless you play the game. Live or die, Lawrence. Make your choice.

-Mark Hoffman.

_Game Over._

Lawrence’s voice rang loudly in Mark’s head as he watched him flick the lights off in the bathroom and close the door, taking one moment to glance back at his own severed, decomposed foot on the floor. He was gone in a flash, leaving Mark shackled and screaming at the doctor who had perhaps sealed his fate. But as he tugged at the chain, he panted and knew that it couldn’t be the end for him. He’d escaped his death before, and he had become acquainted with the darkness on more than one occasion. It had consumed any last essence of a soul that he had before, and caught up in John’s games had twisted him in multiple ways. But every item in the bathroom was either too far away for him to reach, or was rusted to such an extent that probably would’ve killed him if it entered his bloodstream. He’d also been robbed of all his personal belongings, which would’ve been vital for him. Unlike the previous victims that had perished in the bathroom, Mark had something that defined him from the rest.

_Someone is missing me. If I’m missing for too long, he’s going to get very suspicious._

Lawrence had been so confident that nobody would know, or care that Hoffman was missing. He had no family ties to speak of, and as far as he was aware he wasn’t dating anyone. He’d done extensive research too, but the records would never have shown the most crucial piece of the puzzle that he needed. Peter.

***

As Peter unlocked his front door, he walked into his shared house, heading towards the kitchen. His coat slumped from his arms and he grabbed an apple, taking a bite. He hadn’t had a chance to eat since his shift finished, but as he turned on the TV, his previous snack fell to the floor with a thud.

_The biggest attack on our police department has been carried out tonight. A female has been identified as Jill Tuck, the late wife of John Kramer. Her body was found grossly mutilated, along with several slaughtered officers. Police are appealing for witnesses, and the public have been strongly advised to report any incident, however suspicious. Please stayed tuned for further updates._

Hearing the disturbing news made Peter immediately flip into action. He grabbed his phone and his jacket, heading straight back to the office that he’d just returned from. Somehow the events had happened during his walk home, and he’d been oblivious to the whole thing. His hands shook as he dialled a familiar number. The number failed to disconnect, and he was left with a strange beeping in its wake. He dialled again, but was met with the same tune. He growled angrily and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, storming into the office.

“What the fuck happened?!” Peter growled, whilst every agent armed themselves with guns.

“It’s Hoffman. That bastard killed 11 people, and Jill Tuck. We’re gonna get the bastard.” His superior replied, tossing a gun at him. Peter caught it and nodded as he armed up with them. Putting on the façade for his colleagues was easy, but finding Mark would be another story. With a death warrant on his head, Mark was possibly in the safest place right now. Lawrence had accidentally done Peter a favour, keeping his secret for him. Peter made his way outside to his car and slammed the door as he got inside. He tried the number on his phone again, but threw it angrily against the dashboard when he was met with a disconnected line once again.

“FUCK! Mark, where are you?” Peter mumbled to himself, as he started rummaging through the glove compartment. It had been some time since Mark had told him every single detail about what he’d been up to, and whilst Peter was obligated to arrest him, he couldn’t. How he could arrest him, after everything they’d been through? Brushing against some paper, he found what he was looking for. A map, leading to a location that Mark had only ever told him. Even John wasn’t aware that Mark was involved with someone else, it was perhaps the sneakiest game Hoffman had played. And only he and Peter knew the rules. Entering the coordinates on his sat nav, Peter drove towards the location. It was ten minutes away, but he sped through red lights to make it there in five. If the agents were searching everywhere, he just had to find Mark first. As he parked the car, he swung out of the door and armed himself with his gun as he entered the building.

***

Trying to conserve his oxygen and energy, Mark laid down on the filthy bathroom floor. He stared up into the darkness. He knew it was calling him, baring it’s teeth for blood. To get revenge on the man who put him there. But for now he was stuck, staring into an endless abyss and smelling the rotting corpses that laid around him. Whilst his nose twitched, he barely noticed the smell of decay as his mind focused on so many other things. Perhaps an hour had passed already, but time eluded him. The cold floor and the dark atmosphere finally made it easier for him to arrange his thoughts, but vengeance was strong. Vengeance or love? Would humanity win out in the end? Or was it too late to cleanse the darkness that he built up with every murder. Surprisingly, Mark had felt some remorse when he killed each victim. He couldn’t even raise his head to look at Jill’s mangled jaw. But he’d done it because of the said darkness. Murder wasn’t fun for him, it wasn’t something that came easily either, no matter how many times he did it. When he pulled his knife out of necks he’d stabbed, it still made him shudder. The real reason for the destruction was to serve a higher purpose. Justice? Not anymore. Brutality. The sheer feeling of controlling everyone around him, it helped him feel less dead inside. But he was aware of the pain he was causing, and not just to his victims. To the one person he’d given his heart and soul to. Well, if he had a heart.

“Mark?” A soft voice called out from the darkness, startling Mark back into his conscious thoughts. He sat up and blinked, only met with a small light in the distance.

“P-Peter…” he stuttered, his mouth dry and his voice hoarse. Even though he’d stopped shouting a few hours ago, his vocal cords had suffered a huge shock, and he couldn’t croak Peter’s name loud enough for him to hear. He coughed, blood splattering over his hands as he did. But the noise was enough to grab the cat-like ears of Peter, and he opened the bathroom door. He was holding a small flashlight, and he could just make out the silhouette of his lover in the distance. Stumbling by the door, he found the light switch and put it on, the light blinding Mark. As Mark covered his eyes, Peter dropped his torch and ran over to him, placing his gun back in his holster. He’d never seen Mark look so rough, his hair was stuck all over his forehead, sweat stained every orifice of his body and the stitches in his cheek were coming undone. As he assessed the predicament Mark was in, he sighed as he was met with a hard stare.

“Peter…why are you here..?” Mark whispered gruffly, still coughing.

“Do you really think I’d just leave you here to die?”

“Get out…” The angry grunt just made Peter sigh, and he shook his head, taking his gun from his belt. He shot the chain and released Mark from his confinement, hauling up with a heavy force. Mark pushed him away and stood alone, a little wobbly.

“You shouldn’t be here!”

“Mark, you can’t stand properly. Come on, use my shoulder.” Peter forced Mark’s arm over himself and dragged him from the bathroom. Mark had no energy left to fight, his muscles were starting to ache and his leg throbbed from pain. When Peter eventually dragged the drained body out of the sewers, he shoved Mark in his car and slammed the door. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. If he went home, his colleagues would be crawling all over him. If he took Mark anywhere, he’d be tracked anyway. But deciding to go against everything he’d been taught, Peter drove towards their house. Mark wasn’t in a position to ague, and just sprawled across the back of the car seats. His head was pounding, and he was barely aware of what was happening. But one thought was louder than the rest.

_KILL ADAM. KILL ADAM._

The rest of the journey was a blur, but Mark found himself being washed and re-hydrated by the man he once loved. Or maybe still did, but the overwhelming urge to kill was undeniable. It was stronger than Peter’s soft hands and caring nature. When he had a moment to compose himself, he straightened his jacket and waited for Peter to leave the room, before implementing his plan. Peter was too distracted by cooking to notice Mark riffling through drawers and rustling papers. Mark found the crucial piece he needed and fled through the door without a whisper. Even John let pieces of information fall through his fingers, just as he’d never known that Lawrence had gone back for Adam all those years ago. How did Mark know? How did Mark know that Lawrence was working for John, that his most precious possession was cowering in his apartment? Insurance. Knowing that John had another apprentice in his rants, meant Mark had also done his extensive research in order to make sure he would never end up like Amanda. He’d always be the one holding the cards, and it was convenient that Peter would always save him. Love, for the sake of power. Holding Lawrence’s address in his hands, Mark headed to his apartment, holding a gun that he’d stolen from his lover. With a search warrant on his head, he walked in the shadows and avoided glowing street lamps. It wasn’t far, but still far enough to get caught by one of the agents or police prowling around. Luckily he made it without much detection, and when he reached the door he pressed his ear to the mahogany. Two voices could be heard from outside.

“How do you know he’s not going to come after you?!”

“Because I took care of it, Adam. He’s not getting out. I promise.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes! I’m going out, I can’t stay here.” The sound of stomping feet towards him made Mark hide in the stairwell, still hearing the voices in heated debate as the front door swung open.

“Adam, don’t be so stupid. Come on, it’s the middle of the night. There’s all kinds of weirdos about…”

“And you pissed off the wrong one.” Mark stepped out of the darkness, grabbing Adam by the back of his shirt as he revealed himself to a shocked Lawrence. He stepped into the light and pulled Adam into a tight headlock, his gun resting on the younger man’s temple. Adam gasped loudly and clawed at Mark’s arm but was left weak when Mark squeezed his throat harder.

“Good to see you again, _Larry_.” Mark sneered and his finger slowly moved down on the trigger. Lawrence held out his hand.

“Mark. Leave him out of this.”

“No.”

“He hasn’t done anything. Your fight is with me, not him.” Lawrence rested on his cane, staring at Mark’s angered face.

“Damn fucking right my fight is with you. Which means you should’ve protected your little Adam better. Now you’ll get to watch him scream.” Mark spat back at him, his arm squeezing even tighter. Adam was shaking in his grip, but any feelings of guilt were replaced with rage and desire. Desire to kill the man that was so special to Lawrence. But Lawrence wasn’t reacting how he wanted.

“You won’t kill him. I know you won’t. Because deep down, you know that it’s not right. Adam doesn’t deserve to be tested.” His calm voice was only encouraging Mark.

“Don’t you bullshit me! John would’ve fucking left him to die. But you saved his scrawny ass! Why did you do it, huh?!”

“Because I love him. I understand that love is a hard concept for you to understand Mark.”

“Actually it’s not.” A deep voice called out from the shadows and Peter stepped out, aiming his gun at Mark.

“Who are you?” Lawrence questioned.

“My name is Peter Hoffman. Mark is my husband, so don’t lecture him about love.” Peter edged closer and looked at Mark, who was visibly disturbed by his appearance.

“Peter, don’t get involved in this.”

“Put him down, Mark.”

“No.”

“Put. Him. Down.”

“YOU TAKE ONE MORE STEP AND I’LL BLOW HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!” Mark shouted, his gun almost drilling into Adam’s skull. Lawrence met Peter’s eyes for a moment, and Peter sighed deeply.

“It didn’t have to be this way, Mark.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I wish you had played by the rules.” Peter aimed his gun and shot Mark’s hand, releasing Adam from his grip and watching Mark’s gun clatter to the floor. Adam immediately ran into Lawrence’s open arms, both of them backing into the apartment but the door remaining open. As Mark fell to his knees holding his bleeding hand, he looked up at Peter.

“What….the…”

“Game over.”

A timing device started beeping, and Peter joined the two men in the apartment, slamming the door on Mark. Looking around frantically, Mark searched the stairwell for the sound, but the beeping followed him with every step. Each tick elevated his heart rate, and when he found the source, it was too late. Sixty seconds had passed quickly, and when the clock had reached its final destination, Mark Hoffman was blown into pieces, along with the stairwell. The explosion rocked every person sitting on their sofa, watching the news. The damage was relentless, and the fire department used every ounce of overtime to clear the mess. But as Lawrence, Peter and Adam climbed down the ladder, everything changed.

***

Laying down a single red rose, Peter knelt down and stroked the headstone. A brief relationship, destroyed by vengeance. Lawrence and Adam were at his side, the only three men to attend Mark’s funeral. As he rose from the ground, Lawrence patted Peter’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry about Mark.”

“Like fuck you are.”

“Well, I’m sorry for you.”

“Collateral damage. I loved him, but I know it would end like this.” Peter sighed and looked back at Lawrence with hatred.

“You played your part well. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” Lawrence held out his hand and Peter shook it.

“Is this over now?”

“Yes. No more games. This was John’s last request, and we can finally get back to our lives.”

“I might’ve done this for you, but you have to understand that I did love him. Killing him was the hardest thing I had to do. So you can go about your perfect little life, with your perfect little husband. But Mark was my husband. I don’t have a life without him. If you contact me again, I will follow Mark’s last request, and kill you myself.” Peter snarled and turned his back, heading out of the graveyard. Lawrence watched after him, his arm draped around Adam as he felt his eyes look up at him.

“Lawrence?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry about Peter.”

“He’ll come back. He always does. Blood is thicker than water.” Lawrence pressed a kiss to Adam’s forehead and knew this wasn’t the last he’d heard of his brother.


	2. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is still haunted by Mark's death, but a cute smile might help a little. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who reads or even glances at this!

Rubbing his temple, Peter groaned and got out of bed, pain hitting his forehead before his feet even touched the floor. He brought both hands to his head and sighed deeply, trying to rub away the never-ending ache. But it wasn’t new to him, he’d been waking up with headaches every single day, since he betrayed his husband. Despite his rough exterior, he was hurting. He hurt so much, that aspirin and whiskey numbed the pain but never removed it. The feel of Mark’s body when he woke up next to him was the one thing he couldn’t get used to. The warmth, the smell of his extremely manly shampoo, that he often teased him about. But he’d never let anyone see his sadness, and one man in particular was proving to be more difficult than everyone else. He never wanted to see Lawrence again, but his found his familial ties pulling him back to the doctor.

As he pulled a shirt and pants on, he looked down at the thought of having to open the wardrobe again. Mark’s clothes still hung there, lonely and abandoned. Peter couldn’t quite find it in his heart to throw them away, but looking at them only made him feel worse. Swallowing down his guilt, he checked his watch and went to the door, looking at the apartment behind him.

“See you later baby. I love you.” He said softly, nodding at the empty room. He considered his actions stupid, speaking into the wind, but it was a habit, one he couldn’t kick quite yet. When he got into his car he had plenty of time before his meeting with his brother, but he decided to get there early. He didn’t know he would regret his decision later.

***

Even driving as slow as possible, Peter still made it to Lawrence’s house with twenty minutes to spare. Tapping the dashboard, he tilted his head and sighed deeply.

_Stop thinking about Mark. It’s been over a month._

Walking up the drive, Peter headed over to the secret key location. Even after their kidnap, they kept an emergency key outside the house in a box, protected by a secret code. Only Peter and a few close friends knew the code, security precautions were still at the forefront of Adam and Lawrence’s mind. As he unlocked the door, Peter was stopped in his tracks by the sound of faint moaning coming from Lawrence’s bedroom.

“Oh god, not again. LARRY!” Peter shouted angrily, closing the door behind him. His shout earned a loud squeal from Adam, and he smirked as he heard Lawrence sighing. A few moments later Lawrence shuffled out of the bedroom, wearing a dressing gown.

“Peter, do you have to just let yourself in all the time?” He frowned.

“It’s not my fault that you two are ALWAYS at it. I mean come on….it’s the middle of the day and it’s not like you didn’t know I was coming. You invited me.” Peter sprawled across the sofa and Lawrence poked his knee with his cane.

“What’s so special about his scrawny ass anyway?”

“Peter, don’t. You know, you sound exactly like him.”

“Like who?”

“Mark.”

Peter flinched and looked down, jogging his knee and pushing Lawrence’s cane away. Lawrence sighed and sat beside him, patting his shoulder.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“None of this would’ve happened if….”

“If?”

“IF YOU’D HAVE JUST LET ME TALK TO HIM! I know he was an asshole….but….but..” Peter started panting angrily, his hands balling into fists. Lawrence continued to pat his shoulder, but it was only making matters worse.

“I didn’t know you would fall so hard for him. It was never meant to be so serious…..I thought you were good at faking emotions.”

“Tell me something, Lawrence. If you’d done the dirty work yourself, and had an intimate relationship with him, would you feel nothing? Would you just lay back and take it, like your little pampered princess?” Peter scowled, but Lawrence’s reply came in the shape of a hard slap, straight across Peter’s unsuspecting cheek. He looked at his brother, wide-eyed.

“What the fuck was that for?!”

“Don’t ever compare him to Adam. I’ll forgive you for that remark this time because you’re upset. But next time I won’t be so nice.”

“You just slapped me!”

“Because you’re being an ass. I am sorry about Mark, but I’d be lying if I said I wish he was alive. I didn’t want you running off with him.”

“I wouldn’t have run with him. But you’re so selfish.”

“Me?”

“Because you keep flaunting him in my face!”

“Larry? Pete?” A timid voice startled both brothers out of their conversation as Adam peered around the door, only wearing boxers. Peter rolled his eyes and shot him a death stare.

“None of your concern, Adam.” Peter spat poisonously as Lawrence gave him another warning look. Adam yawned and came over, perching on Lawrence’s knee.

“I heard you shouting. Is this because of-“

“If anyone says his name again, I swear to god I’ll….”

“Peter. Stay for breakfast.” Adam smiled sweetly and got up, heading to the kitchen. Peter raised his eyebrow and watched him, his anger beginning to soften.

“Why is he so cheerful…”

“He’s just happy to be alive. You’re right that I’m selfish, I couldn’t leave him behind. John wouldn’t have appreciated that. But you understand why I did it?”

“For love. You’re such a sappy bastard.” Peter sighed softly and heard Adam humming along to the radio in the distance. Somehow his anger had melted down, hearing his brother’s rescue story always managed to calm him down. Lawrence knew how to diffuse his brother so well, and he smiled at Adam’s goofy antics.

“Are you staying for breakfast?” Lawrence got up and headed over to the kitchen table. Muttering under his breath, Peter joined him with a grumpy frown across his face. He would stay, but he wasn’t exactly happy about it.

Adam finished breakfast and put a large plate of pancakes on the table. He looked at Peter and kept smiling, sitting down beside him. The chair scraped against the floor as he edged closer to the frowning FBI agent.

“Can I help you?” Peter growled at him. Adam wasn’t fazed by Peter’s tone, and instead pushed a plate towards him.

“Larry told me that blueberry pancakes are your favourite. Please enjoy.” Adam’s voice was almost too sweet, but Peter managed a small smile through his annoyance.

“Um….thanks…..”

Peter took a bite of his breakfast, but as he watched Lawrence and Adam talking, he felt his heart beating fast. He felt panicked, almost threatened. It was watching a normal exchange between a loving couple that caused him to relapse back into a memory.

_“Should we get pancakes tonight?” Peter said, wandering aimlessly down the shopping aisle. Mark shook his head and smirked._

_“No, you know I hate that pre-made shit.”_

_“I could cook for you.” Peter cooed, hugging Mark in the middle of the store. He felt Mark nudge him sharply in the ribs._

_“Don’t be such a housewife. I fell in love with a tough guy, not some wilting flower.” Mark grinned as Peter poked him back._

_“That’s the last time I do something nice for you, grumpy.” Peter smiled and both men giggled, continuing through the store._

“Peter? You okay?” Adam’s voice rang loudly in Peter’s ears. He blinked and shook his head, rushing out of the room. Lawrence started to stand up, but Adam put his hand out and followed Peter instead. Peter stood panting hard, leaning on a chair for support. He was still reeling from the sudden memory, and there were triggers he didn’t even comprehend before. Adam knew what a panic attack looked like, so without a word he went to Peter and hugged him from behind, his tiny arms barely reaching around Peter’s broad body, but it was the sentiment that mattered, not the execution. Peter was startled to feel Adam’s cold arms wrap around him, but instead of pulling away, he turned and picked Adam up, staring at him.

“Why are you so weird?” Peter said, sighing.

“Just wanted to cheer you up….” Adam said softly, his annoying smile somehow melting through the panic. Peter ruffled his hair, still annoyed but somehow finding comfort in the smaller man’s cute nature. Lawrence walked into the room and looked at them, shaking his head at them both.

“Now do you see why I love him?” Lawrence grinned and Peter rolled his eyes, fake gagging at his brother. 


End file.
